


hold me down

by Anonymous



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Bruises, But they get better, Butt Plugs, Choking, Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, For a given value of better, Hate Sex, I know Raihan is actually like. an angel given flesh. but also I needed someone to be mean to Leon, M/M, Masochism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, here we go again with my questionable smut and niche kinks, my apologies, questionable aftercare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The bruises are dark and purple, ugly blotches hinting at shapes. He traces one carefully (here is how he grabbed him, here is where the wall left its marks on his skin, here is the edge of a sharp canine) and wonders if he’ll let them fade before he goes to get more. He won’t, but he’ll hold out until the deepest of them nearly fades away. He owes himself that much, at least.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45
Collections: Anonymous





	hold me down

**Author's Note:**

> here we go folx

Time and glory have soured their relationship, Leon knows. He can’t help clinging to the last bits of what they once had, though. He’ll jump at anything to just keep Raihan’s hands on him. So that first year after he becomes Champion, when he feels the gulf between them widening, a slowly growing chasm… well. After a particularly close exhibition match Raihan smiles for the cameras, shoots a couple selfies, but goes down to the private locker rooms to bang doors shut in anger and frustration. Leon springs the offer on him then, when he’s too heated to think straight. Too defeated to refuse claiming back a few scraps of glory, even unconventionally.

The first time Raihan thinks he’s joking, making a mockery out of him, and - of course - rises to the challenge with full aplomb, snarling and spitting and tearing his tights to pieces, taking him rough, without much prep. Leon bleeds and cries and Raihan seems satisfied to at least get some reaction out of him, when he thrusts in and Leon stutters around his cock. The first time is all heat and rush and anger, and all the times after that aren’t too different. More measured, maybe, but always rough, always brutal. Leon wouldn’t expect anything else. He knows how hard Raihan can be on himself - why any different for anyone else?

He almost prefers it that way, the bruises settling bone-deep, marks and aches every time he moves. It’s a reminder, he tells himself, he’s not untouchable. It grounds him. He jerks off to it, thumbing a bruise hard on his thigh as he comes, letting the mix of pain and pleasure wash over him. He’s real. Raihan’ll hold him down, hold him steady. The pain is a reminder.

Raihan gets inventive, too. Leon thinks they’ve fucked probably up, against, or on every surface in those locker rooms, and can’t even manage the energy to feel bad for the other Gym leaders who use it. And as much as Leon treats the pain as a learning experience, he doesn’t want to tear something, so the first time Raihan pulls down his underwear to reveal a plug nestled in his ass, he lets out a disbelieving laugh, then fucks him harder than ever before, on his hands and knees, one of Raihan’s hands with a firm grip in Leon’s purple hair, yanking with every thrust. Leon would almost feel ashamed about it, too, if it wasn’t one of the few methods to which he was clinging to his sense of self with a desperation and intensity matching Raihan’s marks on him. Being Champion has worn him to near nothing, and he wonders wildly sometimes how anyone could have thought it was a good idea for a ten-year-old to take the title. It feels like Raihan’s teeth at his throat are all that’s keeping him functioning, all that still gets a rise of feeling out of him. Chairman Rose has done an exceptional job of numbing him.

Outside of the lockers, none of this exists. Raihan is the cheerful, kind, and smiling Dragon Gym Leader, with an overactive social media presence and a fan favorite among the league. Leon is… Leon, Champion of Galar, always encouraging, always flawless, and undefeated. Raihan isn’t cruel to anyone else, as far as Leon knows. He’s always been good to him, until Leon came up to him after beating him and his team into the ground and taunted him into leaving his handprints around his neck. Leon asked for it and Raihan has always delivered, above and beyond. Their relationship was crumbling, so Leon shores it up with hate sex if he must, with screams and curses and not an inch of unmarked skin under his uniform. The tights were a whim, initially, but now they’re great for hiding… everything. His thighs especially often look like they’ve been ravaged by a Dragon-type, which, he supposes, they have been. Nobody needs to know that their Champion likes it when Raihan sinks his teeth into him and makes it bleed.

Almost a decade into his stint as Champion and they’ve almost settled into a routine for the last couple months. There was a tournament today, final match coming down to him and Raihan, and they’d put on a spectacular show for the audience, resulting in Raihan’s loss. He’s got to stay on the field a little longer than Raihan, thanking the people as Champion for coming, thanking the other tournament participants, thanking Chairman Rose and all the sponsors… By the time he’s trudging back on down to the locker rooms, he’s exhausted, and not just physically. Raihan’s waiting for him.

“Let’s try something different today,” is all the warning he gets. He’d stepped into the locker room, wondering at the apparent emptiness with a lurch of fear in his stomach (was today of all days finally the day Raihan got sick of him, sick of their arrangement and fucked off? he was so tired he didn’t know if he could handle that) before he became suddenly aware of someone stepping right behind him, removing his cape, strong arms guiding him in a particular direction. Leon doesn’t fight - whatever Raihan wants to do to him, he deserves it, needs it and wants it in equal measure. He lets himself be led to sit against the lockers, a padded mat for his ass on the floor, hands handcuffed to a locker door above him from his new position. The position has him sitting directly on his plug, something he only realizes with a soft groan when he hits the mat. He eyes Raihan inquisitively, tired and longing all in one. Raihan stares back, and it’s inscrutable. Leon can’t read him at all, him and his ice-chip eyes. They get lighter during battling, and he wonders if Raihan’s ever noticed.

Raihan kneels down to take off Leon’s shoes, spread Leon’s legs wide, and Leon looks at him through hooded eyes and a flush rising rapidly on his face as they return to familiar territory. It’s going to be hard for Raihan to fuck him in this position, he registers distantly, as Raihan slides his big hands up his thighs, squeezing and groping lightly. He’s still got bruises from last time, and the ache of old pain just makes him flush all the faster, noticeable even on his dark skin. He opens his mouth to remind Raihan his tights and shorts are still on, he hasn’t had time to get changed (not that that’s really stopped Raihan, really, he’s lost innumerable articles of clothing to the Dragon-type Gym Leader) but it gets lost between his brain and his mouth when Raihan teases his dick, still through his clothes, and Leon lets out a faltering gasp instead.

Raihan fondles him until he’s hard and leaking, panting for it. He draws him through it, slowly, like he’s drinking up each and every one of Leon’s reactions. When he finally pauses, the haze of muddy arousal clearing enough from Leon’s head to wonder at the sudden change of events, Leon sees Raihan’s piercing gaze, still just as cold as when they’d started. Leon’s traitorous dick drips a little more precum at that, and Leon realizes at some point his shorts had been peeled off, leaving him in his white tights, now stained in wet patches at the crotch with his cock pressing up against it. He almost feels embarrassed, but the straining of his dick is too distracting for him to worry much about it now. He’s left staring hungrily up at Raihan, who’s crouched on his feet in front of him. There hasn’t been nearly enough to satisfy the bone-deep ache in him, begging to be beaten / bruised / filled.

Unfortunately for him, Raihan seems to want to talk. _Now is the worst time_, Leon tries to say, but Raihan stops him with a casual hand shooting out to grip tightly around his neck. He’ll feel that tomorrow, as the back of his head rattles against the metal lockers from the impact, and he’s a little bit satisfied, even as Raihan makes clear he doesn’t want to hear whatever Leon might have to say. That’s fine, the bruising pressure around his windpipe is holding him down. He tries to breathe in, and on failing, makes an aborted wheeze with sick satisfaction. Raihan’s still talking. Leon finally calms enough to listen.

“-don’t know what’s up with you, and it’s my bad for not asking this earlier on, maybe, but. Clearly something’s fucked up with you.” Leon thinks dryly in the back of his dizzy head, _no shit, I get off to you taking me apart in the worst ways._

“Leon, the fuck you keep asking me to brutalize you like this for? Hmm?” Raihan lets go of Leon’s neck with a rough exhale and Leon struggles to take in new air. Even after he’s caught his breath, wheezing lightly, Leon still seems dazed, unresponsive, and Raihan huffs impatiently, casually backhands him across the face. Leon hits the lockers again and wow, Raihan must really be worked up, usually the face is off limits, being Champion and all. People are going to ask questions.

Leon doesn’t really have an answer for him, though. He doesn’t know what to say, and Raihan quickly picks up on how every time he hits Leon, his cock jumps. 

“Fuck, shoulda known you would get off on it,” Raihan sounds disgusted and Leon gets harder, if that’s even physically possible at this point. He is nasty and horrible, yeah, Raihan isn’t wrong to sneer at him like that. _ This_ is who he is under the Champion title, the facade of perfection. Disgusting.

“Let’s try something different, then.” Raihan’s body temperature is insanely high. Leon registers this as a big hand palms his dick through the fabric of his tented tights, and he whimpers as Raihan rubs him, the friction of the cloth driving him crazy. Raihan watches impassively but intensely, driving him right to the edge of orgasm only to pull away, again and again and again until Leon isn’t even aware of how long it’s been, him sprawled out on the locker mats, only knowing that his arms are beginning to ache from the strain of having them handcuffed above his head and the wet puddles at his crotch have grown to such a size, he can see practically his whole cock and balls through the now see-through fabric. Each time he gets close, Raihan asks him if he’s ready to answer, and each time Leon doesn’t say a word, only keens with frustration each time Raihan moves his hands away. By the last time, Leon’s teary, cock red and hard and still trapped by the fabric of his tights. He starts to really believe Raihan can and will keep him here forever, just bringing him to the edge and back over and over and over again, as long as he needs to to extract a confession out of him. And Leon can’t, he feels like he’s already lost coherence, he needs to come _ so bad -- _

He sobs the next time Raihan asks and pulls away at his lack of answer. The time after that is the last, when he finally pries open his mouth, his floppy, useless tongue:

“_ Raaai_han,” crying, and Raihan gets it immediately, not pulling away but stroking his cock with a thumb, light, gentle touches.

“That’s it, Leon, tell me, that’s all you gotta do,”

“I’m…” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, he knows Raihan wants answers but he doesn’t know how to give them, crying, “I’m _ bad_, Raihan, I’m… I’m not the Champion.” He’s horrible, he’s worse, he’s _ this_, and he has to remember, center himself before his gaudy title consumes him entirely, before he’s nothing more than _ Galar’s Champion_.

Raihan doesn’t say anything, just keeps stroking, lightly, lightly. Waiting for more that Leon can’t give.

“I just _ want _it, please, Rai-_ah _, Raihan, please - I need it,” and there Leon dissolves, just pleading, begging, Raihan, please. Raihan seems to realize he won’t get any more out of Leon like this, either, and clicks his tongue.

“Was that really so hard?” He fondles Leon’s sensitive balls, now, still through the wet material of his tights, gently rolling them around in his palm. Leon whines at the sensation, a firm grip enclosing him where he’s most vulnerable. Raihan massages them with care, stroking, playing lightly. Then without warning, Raihan crushes them in his hand, and Leon sees stars, comes with a pained cry, makes an even bigger mess of the inside of his tights. Tears leak out of Leon’s eyes, but it’s obvious that he enjoyed that far more than he should’ve. By now, Raihan knows what Leon likes.

Honestly, Raihan’s still conflicted about the answer he’s gotten from Leon, but for now he buries it deep inside of himself. He barely knows where to begin processing Leon’s statement, so he returns to what he does know. Leon wants it, and he can provide. He releases Leon from the handcuffs, ignoring Leon’s cries as his arms fall limply to his sides, probably sore from the awkward positioning, and hauls him to his feet. Picks him up, really, with his back to the wall, hiking Leon’s legs up around his waist. 

From there on out it’s all savagery. Raihan strips Leon of his much-abused tights, yanks out the plug carelessly, discarded on the floor, and Leon’s empty for only a single aching moment before he’s filled again, thicker, deeper, a relentless pounding against the wall. Leon’s back is going to be scraped up after, Raihan’s gripping him with so much force. Leon’s cries only seem to spur Raihan on, brutal, harder, with more pressure, and Raihan ends up throttling him again in the shower, up against the white-tiled walls. It makes Leon go glassy-eyed, expression vaguely rapturous around his struggle for air, framed by Raihan’s dark hands. The steam clouds both their vision. By the end of it, Leon’s shuddered his way through another release, whimpering, and Raihan’s not far behind.

Normally then is when Raihan would have abandoned Leon, a crumpled, used heap, left to clean up the mess they always leave behind and lick his wounds. Something’s different today. Leon’s still naked in the shower, shivering in a corner - Raihan was all that was holding him up - but Raihan’s cleaning up, taking the mess of Leon’s clothes and throwing his towel to Leon. Leon watches him with blissfully empty eyes, taking the fluffy orange towel with mild surprise like he doesn’t know what to do with it. Raihan lets out a breath, finishes washing the plug in one of the sinks before coming back to the shower, sinking down to Leon’s level. He pulls Leon’s legs open, shifts his hips upwards - Leon lets himself be manhandled, like a doll - cleans him out, replaces the plug. Leon shudders through it, doesn’t talk, just keeps watching tiredly as Raihan towels him dry to the best of his ability, mussing his hair without a word.

Raihan guides him into a fresh change of casual clothes - Leon’s too out of it to even protest at the lack of Champion wear - and bundles him into one of the Hammerlocke Gym’s parkas, the long dark blue coats with orange edging and soft grey lining. 

“Sleep,” Raihan tells him, looking more tired than Leon’s ever seen him, and Leon listens obediently, closes his eyes, and slips into darkness with the steady presence of his best friend picking him up into his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is really short yes idk if i'll continue but kudos + comments feed me and my thirst  
inspired by, although not quite fitting [this art](https://twitter.com/shigeru13_pm/status/1207661472144183297?s=21)


End file.
